


Good Boy

by incogniteau



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Death, Best Friends, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton-centric, Crossing the Rainbow Bridge, Crying, Depressing, Heavy Angst, Man's Best Friend - Freeform, Men Crying, Old Age, Sadness, pizza dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogniteau/pseuds/incogniteau
Summary: Clint helps Lucky cross the Rainbow Bridge.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Lucky
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired](https://spectralarchers.tumblr.com/post/188979375207) by spectralarchers over on tumblr.

Clint carefully carried his precious mutt into the veterinary clinic. When he’d rescued Lucky from those tracksuit degenerates years ago, he knew this time would inevitably come. But it always seemed so far away, like he had all the time in the world with his four-legged friend. Often time moves at lightning speed, but time had crept up on the two of them. Clint hadn’t noticed both of them getting old and “creaky”, as he put it.

He made his way to the receptionist area, and a young vet tech in royal blue scrubs came over. 

“Hey, Mr. Barton; what can we do for Lucky today?”

“Um,” Clint cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the grief sitting there. “End of life care, please.”

He’d whispered it because that’s all he could get out of his voice.

A sympathetic gaze crossed the girl’s face, and she proceeded to gather the paperwork he’d need to fill out.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Barton.” She handed him the papers and a clipboard, which he awkwardly took with his arms full of large dog. She gingerly rubbed Lucky’s head.

“Thanks, Chloe.”

Sooner than he’d like after he’d handed over the filled out paperwork, Chloe had called them to a back room. Clint met with the vet, and the vet had explained exactly what he was going to do and exactly what would be taking place after he administered the drugs. The vet also gave Clint a pamphlet detailing different boxes and urns available for cremains. The dog laid on a navy colored sofa with his head on Clint’s lap.

“I’ll give you some time while I prep everything,” the vet said exiting the room.

“Hey, boy,” Clint murmured. “You did so good all these years. Protected me from those tracksuit Draculas, and then when Laura and the kids came along, you made sure there were no monsters under beds or hiding in closets. Kept watch over ‘em after any nightmares. Every time I went on a mission, I knew I was leavin’ ‘em in safe paws.”

Clint palmed his pup’s head and stroked the space between his brows with his thumb. Lucky thumped his tail a couple of times, and Clint took that as an indication the dog was listening.

“But I need you to know that it’s ok to go. You don’t have to look out for us anymore.”

His voice cracked.

“Wanda, Kate, and Nat are very sorry they couldn’t be here to say goodbye in person; they were so upset about it, but they told me to give you kisses.”

He gently kissed the dog on both sides of his muzzle, and then on the top of his head. “Those are from the girls.”

“And Laura and the kids, well, they wanted their last memories of you to be of trotting around the house, following them from one room to the other, chasing thrown balls, and lazing on the couch with ‘em. Laura didn’t think she and the kids could take this, and to tell you the truth, this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. But they’re keepin’ you close in their thoughts and in their hearts, boy.”

The vet came back in with a syringe.

“Mr. Barton, are you ready?” He asked quietly.

Clint nodded, unable to speak. Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks.

After administering the drugs, the vet once again left Clint to have time alone with his companion.

“Feelin’ a little better? Doesn’t hurt so much anymore; feels kinda nice, right?”

Clint noticed the dog’s breaths slowing and his one eye going half-lidded.

“I’m going to miss you, buddy,” Clint sniffed into the dog’s neck. “You were the best damn friend. I love you so much, Pizza Dog.”

* * *

“Hey there, Lucky!”

The dog perked his head up at this calling. It was a little strange at first; he felt like a puppy again. His joints were fluid, no longer stiff and with a perpetual ache. Boundless energy seemed to run through his veins once more. He looked up and saw a young man who then knelt down to his eye level. The man scratched behind Lucky’s ears.

“My name’s Pietro; Wanda is my sister. She talks to me all the time, and she’s told me all about you. She says you’re the best dog. And don’t worry, boy; you and I will eventually see everyone we love again.”

He pecked the dog on his cold, wet nose.

“But let’s keep each other company while we wait.”


End file.
